


StrongStar Oneshots

by s4dlik3_mrme



Category: Homestar Runner
Genre: M/M, adhd strong bad, also trans femme strong sad bc i love her, autistic homestar, pansexual homestar, trans strong bad, unlabeled strong bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29237589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s4dlik3_mrme/pseuds/s4dlik3_mrme
Summary: Strong Bad/Homestar Runner Oneshots. These all take place chronologically in the same universe, but just like the cartoons, there’s no storyline or anything.
Relationships: Strong Bad/Homestar Runner
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. A Wounded Athlete

**Author's Note:**

> I just think they're neat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homestar twists his ankle, and it's Strong Bad's job to help him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Human!  
> I'm not going to write words to mimic Homestar's speech impediment because like...you know what he sounds like. If I write him saying "Strong Bad" you know he's gonna say it like "Stwong Bad." It feels redundant to write it in, and possibly offensive?? Just letting you know.  
> (Also, quick note, Strong Sad is transfeminine. She’s not gonna be in the story much, but when I do mention her, it’s going to be with she/her).

Homestar limped into Strong Badia, breathing shakily and dramatically. He’d just twisted his ankle in a race. Coach Z had scolded him for not stretching beforehand, but ultimately let him off without much trouble. Strong Bad noticed his condition, and rushed over to him.

“Holy crap, Homestar, what happened to you?” He asked, attempting to seem like he wasn’t very concerned; ultimately, he failed.

Homestar collapsed onto Strong Bad, wrapping his long arms over the wrestleman's shoulders. Luckily, Strong Bad was wearing a shirt for once along with his mask, or else Homestar would’ve noticed his skin heating up from the contact. He could feel Homestar's body pressed against his own, and he almost lost his balance.

"Strong Bad..." Homestar's voice was hoarse. "I twisted my ankle, Strong Bad...it hurts!" he sobbed comically.

The sudden, and frankly annoying, outburst snapped Strong Bad back to reality. "Ugh, alright, you oversized child, lets get you home, I guess." 

"Yay," Homestar cheered weakly.

Pretending not to care was hard, Strong Bad realized. He was tired of it. He was also just tired in general, as he was carrying Homestar over his shoulder. You’d think someone with “Runner” in his name could at least walk a few yards even after twisting his ankle. But besides that, Strong Bad was tired of acting like he couldn’t care less if people he knew about got hurt. I mean, normally, he couldn’t. But with Homestar, it was different.

Low empathy as he was, he didn’t feel like he cared _that_ much. He felt like he should. But he did care. He didn’t realize that caring about someone wasn’t interchangeable with feeling their pain.

Arriving at the Strongs Residence, Strong Bad threw open the door with the arm that wasn’t falling asleep.

”I thought we were going home,” Homestar whined

”What the crap is even the difference? It already feels like you live here anyway!” Strong Bad threw Homestar (not too roughly) onto the couch, and walked into the kitchen to grab himself a Cold One. “Sit tight, Homestar. You want some...expired Fluffy Puff Marshmallows? Or a glass of Strong Sad’s soy milk?” he yelled from the other room.

”Since when does Strong Sad drink soy milk?”

”Since we can’t afford her hormone therapy and she’s trying everything she can Google.” Strong Bad scoffed. “Been there, done that, IT’S NOT GONNA WORK LIKE YOU WANT IT TO, DORK!” he yelled up the stairs to his sister.

”I ALREADY KNOW THAT, STRONG BAD!” Strong Sad yelled back.

After a beat, Homestar realized he had been asked a question. He was playing with the tangle he always kept in his pocket. “Oh, uh...just a water would be good,”

When bringing the drinks into the living room, Strong Bad decided to ask Homestar a question, just as an icebreaker. He’d never been alone in the house with Homestar without some sort of camera rolling. “Have you ever, like, kissed a guy before?”

What the crap is wrong with you? That’s not an ice breaker, that’s global warming.

Well, it was too late to back out now. Backtracking would just make it even more suspicious. Homestar took a sip of his water and mulled over the question, the look on his face implied that he didn’t see anything wrong with it. 

“Well, unless you count the time I kissed Pom Pom’s hand before I bandaged him up...nope. I’ve only kissed Marzipan.”

“Well would you ever want to kiss a guy?”

WHAT. ARE. YOU. SAYING?

The athlete looked up at Strong Bad from his place on the couch. “Strong Bad, if this is a weird ploy to get me to come out of the closet or something, I’ve said I’m pan, like, multiple times already.”

Strong Bad didn’t know that. “Oh, alright then. That’s...yeah, that’s good. But that’s not why I was asking.”

He knew what he was doing at this point. Self-sabatoge. But he couldn’t stop. It was almost as if he wanted to be let down, just so he could focus on anything else.

”Oh?” Homestar sounded intrigued, taking another sip of his water. “Strong Bad, if you wanted me to kiss you, you should’ve just said so.”

Strong Bad’s face went bright red under his mask, which was also bright red. ”Uh, well—eh, hold on now, I don’t— uhm, hold on,” he wasn’t backing down; he just hadn’t planned this far. He didn’t think he’d get here.

Well, Strong Bad thought, all there’s left to do is comply.

He slipped up his mask just far enough so it wouldn’t get in the way, exposing his lips and the hair above them, what had been dubbed a “rat mustache.” 

Homestar reacted as if he was prepared: grabbing Strong Bad’s face and pressing it against his own.

In that moment, Strong Bad’s mind went blank. He tasted mint, which he wasn’t expecting. It wasn’t necessarily a good kiss. It probably looked ridiculous, and it felt nothing like the way they describe it on TV. Honestly, Strong Bad couldn’t say he’d had any worse. But Strong Bad also couldn’t say he’d had any better...this was his first kiss.

When Homestar pulled away, he grinned. “Lucky break, the only thing I’ve had to eat today was toothpaste! Now, where are those Fluffy Puffs!?” he stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen.

Once Strong Bad had processed that, then processed it again, maybe one more time for good measure, something clicked.

”Homestar, did you eat nothing all day and then pretend to twist your ankle so I’d take you to my house and you could make out with me?”

”I’m just surprised it worked!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was dumb but so is everything else i write . . .


	2. In the Very Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coach Z (accompanied by Bubs) drives Strong Bad and Homestar back home after a concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stole this from a prompt generator bc i’m unoriginal and boring. 
> 
> also I've decided all of these will be Human!AU because I can't be bothered to learn how to verbally navigate their anatomy.  
> a lot of these are HEAVY projection.
> 
> content warning for discussion of surgery/surgery scars.

“Oh man, Strong Bad, that concert was like the sum of everything good left in this world!” Homestar spoke as if he was tearing up, which he almost was.

Strong Bad groaned, "Ughh, Why can’t you just say you liked the concert like a normal person?”

“I dunno, I prefer to think of myself as a conglomerate of emotions wrapped up in a funky little napkin!”

Homestar and Strong Bad were walking out of the concert venue together, waiting for their bright green chauffeur in his beat-up, probably-stolen, 7-seater mini-van.

The car pulled up, and Strong Bad could see Coach Z in the driver's seat and...Bubs in the passenger seat? "Oh god..." he mumbled.

Coach Z rolled down his window. "Hey! You kids enjoy the concert?"

"Yes, it was fun, whatever, do we have to sit in the backseat?"

"Well-"

"Yeah, you do, Strong Bad," Bubs interjected.

Strong Bad groaned again and opened the backseat car door, Homestar following closely behind. The two seats in the middle would've been the best-case scenario at this point. But alas...Coach Z is a complete slob. The middle seats were covered in plastic bags and empty Cold One bottles. "EUCGH! Coach Z!!"

"Oops! Sorry about that String Bean, you boys will just have to take the Very Back, then."

"Yay! The Very Back!!!" Homestar seemed genuinely excited about this. Homestar was genuinely excited about a lot of things, which puzzled Strong Bad.

Despite his reluctance in doing so, Strong Bad climbed into the Very Back of the 7-seater, stepping carefully over the litter. Strangely, the Very Back was pristine. Not a single stain or scratch on any of the seats. That was a good sign, at least.

Strong Bad chose a seat by the window, because he knew Homestar would complain if he was cramped, and he didn't want to take the middle seat anyway. Besides, he was still getting over the adrenaline high from the concert, despite being unsure of what band they went to see; they all kind of melted together in his head. Homestar slid into the window seat on the opposite side.

Homestar had had a few Cold Ones during the concert (Strong Bad bought the same amount for the both of them, forgetting that Homestar had a lower tolerance). He was less talkative when he was drunk, and a bit more anxious. Strong Bad looked over at him momentarily. Homestar had taken his hat off and was fidgeting with the "buzzer" on the top. No one knew why he called it a buzzer. It was, of course, called a propeller, but no one had tried to correct him. It wouldn't get them anywhere, anyway. He was stubborn in the way that he misunderstood others to the point of near insanity. It was frustrating. _He_ was frustrating. Incredibly so.

Crap, Strong Bad definitely wanted to kiss him again.

The car began to move, and Strong Bad looked out the window. He contemplated putting his mask back on, even though he felt ridiculous when he wore it in public. He didn't _need_ it, but he wanted to wear it. It comforted him to have an alternate way to be perceived.

 _Whatever_ , he thought, pulling the mask out of his pocket and pulling it over his head. He tucked his hair into the mask like he'd done so many times before. It was getting long and rather shaggy, because he'd been too lazy to get it cut. He hoped it smelled nice. He hoped Homestar thought it smelled nice.

Wait, why did he hope that?

Strong Bad didn’t care what Homestar thought. Why should he? Sure, he was nice enough. Optimistic, funny, cute. He had those soft, bouncy curls on his head that didn't lose their charm even after being smothered with a propeller cap for several hours a day. He had bright blue eyes that looked out at everything as if they were discovering it for the first time. And sure, Strong Bad and Homestar had kissed, but what did that even mean, in the grand scheme of all things? Were they dating now? Were they just friends? Had they ever been friends to begin with? Enemies? Rivals? Why hadn't they established their relationship status at any point in time?

"Oof, what the f-"

Homestar had suddenly found himself in the middle seat next to Strong Bad. **Very much** next to Strong Bad. "Hey, Strong Bad...hey, hello, hi. I'm cold, it's cold in here, and I'm pretty sure Coach Z's heating doesn't work, and also I'm pretty sure that window is broken because there are buttons on the window and they don't do anything and I there's also a crank too but it doesn't do anything and so the window is just open a small bit and it's very hard for me to get any sleep because I'm trying to sleep because it's a long drive home and-" Homestar stopped to catch his breath, and Strong Bad took that opportunity to shut down his drunken ranting entirely. "Alright, would you stop talking? You can be over here, that's fine. I'm cool with that."

Homestar giggled. "Okay good, because I like you." Homestar settled his head on Strong Bad's shoulder. He hummed softly. Strong Bad blushed underneath his mask, feeling the vibrations of Homestar's hums bullet through his brain and bounce around his skull like a pinball machine. He almost didn't notice Homestar's hand finding itself underneath his shirt. "Gah, what are you doing?"

With a soft and breathy laugh, Homestar explained himself. "I like your scars. They're...cool."

"I like them too. Why do you think I walk around with my shirt off all the time?" Strong Bad mumbled.

"Yeah, your surgeon did a really good job. You should be proud of this." Homestar readjusted his body, keeping his hand firmly on Strong Bad's chest while he drifted to sleep.

_He likes my scars..._

It was that infamous “because of his flaws, not in spite of them” trope, but Strong Bad didn’t see his scars as a flaw, and he hoped Homestar didn’t either.

Strong Bad didn't want to move Homestar's hand away, for some reason. If this was how it was going to be for the rest of the drive, Strong Bad was glad Homestar had taken off his hat before snuggling into him. The propeller probably wouldn’t be comfortable against Strong Bad’s neck. He noticed that, even curled up, Homestar’s legs took up most of the seat. He was tall. Which is good for an athlete, Strong Bad believed.

Once Strong Bad was sure Homestar was asleep, he took his mask off. Looking beside him at the sleeping thing on his shoulder, he ran his hands through his hair in a half-baked attempt to make it look at least presentable. He placed his hand overtop Homestar’s, gripping it through his own shirt. He kissed Homestar's forehead tenderly, before attempting to fall asleep himself.

“Your hair smells nice,” the athlete said suddenly. Strong Bad’s eyes shot open. 

Crap.


End file.
